


Chapter 2

by iambuckyrogers



Series: 3 Nights [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 11:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18141407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iambuckyrogers/pseuds/iambuckyrogers
Summary: After your friend bails on your trip to Australia a week before you were due to fly out, your best friend Steve swoops in and saves the day. Unbeknown to you, he’s harbouring the biggest crush on you, but will it get in the way of your holiday?





	Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

> heads up, y/f/d means your favourite drink :) my pool terminology probably needs work but I’ve just used the names we use at home, pretty self-explanatory that way ;) if you want to be tagged in future parts send me an ask/dm and I’ll add you! Likes and comments are always appreciated!!!! <3

“Earth to Steve?” You waved your hand in front of his face pulling him from his daze.

“Sorry, what did you say?” He asked, having dissociated the moment he found out there was only one bed.

“I said I’m going to have a shower and get ready to go out, is that ok?”

“Yeah, of course, go ahead,” Steve sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes, flicking on the TV to an afternoon game show.

“I shouldn’t be long,” you shut the door to the bathroom leaving Steve alone with his thoughts.

“Shit,” he muttered, scrubbing and hand across his face and flopping back into the plush pillows. He knew that this trip was going to be hard, seeing you almost every minute of every day was going to test him, but sleeping in the same bed?! That wasn’t something he had anticipated nor planned for. He heard the water start running, muffled singing filtering through the door. He smiled to himself as he listened to you belt out the lyrics to your favourite song, imagining what it would be like for this moment to last forever. What it would be like to come home and find you singing around the house, the two of you juggling kids and work, waking up with you by his side.

“Damn it, Steven,” he scolded, “be realistic.” Trying his best to block out his thoughts he began getting ready for the night, you were probably just going to go into town and have a look around so he opted for black jeans and a button up shirt over a white singlet. The door to the bathroom swung open and revealed you standing in the doorway looking ethereal. You wore a dusty pink crop top and ripped denim skirt, your hair was tied up in a loose bun, stray strands curling around your face. Steve realised he was gawking and quickly snapped his mouth shut.

“My god Y/N, you look great,” the words spilt out of his mouth before he had time to stop them. You simply shook your head.

“I haven’t even done my make up yet,” you brushed his complement off, heading for your suitcase to retrieve your makeup bag and disappearing back into the bathroom.

“But you don’t need it,” Steve whispered as the door closed. He sat back on the bed and amused himself with the evening news, enthralled with the way the presenters spoke and the odd things that they deemed news worthy. You emerged from the bathroom half an hour later, dressed to the nines making Steve feel very inadequate.

“Wow, I feel ridiculously underdressed,” he commented, looking down at himself.

“Don’t be silly Steve, you look great,” you reassured him, straightening his collar and patting him on the chest, “handsome as always.” An expression Steve had never seen before flashed across your face before you quickly turned away and busied yourself with your handbag.

“Phone, cash, card, id,” you muttered to yourself as you checked the contents of your bag, “ok I’m good to go.”

*****

You walked into town, a much more pleasant trip when you’re not lugging 20 odd kilos behind you. The main street was bustling, filled with tourists and locals making the most of the balmy summer night. You stayed close to Steve as you wandered down the road, looking for a place to stop for a drink.

“Ooh what about there?” You tugged on this sleeve and pointed to a dingy looking wood and tin building that resembled a train station from the old western movies he and Bucky used to watch. People hovered around the front, lit cigarettes decorating their fingers as country music pierced the air, it certainly wasn’t Steve’s cup of tea.

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged, this was your holiday after all.

You clapped your hands and bounced on the spot, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the droning music. He could see the eyes drawn to you the moment you stepped into the pub but you didn’t seem to notice, too busy ducking and weaving through the masses of people you made a beeline for the bar, never once letting go of Steve’s hand. You flagged down a bar tender and ordered you both a drink.

“Could I please have a y/f/d and a whisky neat,” you handed over the money as the drinks were made

“You remember my drink?” Steve noted as you clinked your glasses together, amazed that you remembered such an insignificant detail about him.

“Of course I do Steve, that’s what you do when you li- when you’re friends,” you explain sheepishly, disappearing back into the crowd. Steve quickly followed after you, excusing himself as he pushed and bumped past people. He found you out the front of the pub, sat at a picnic style table in the back corner of the alfresco area. Warm yellow light illuminated the space, glowing from dusty lamps hanging from the ceiling and basking you in a beautiful glow. He sat across from you and looked around the room, a live band played at the front, their tinny country music filling the small space, in the opposite corner to where you sat was a pool table surrounded by burly guys with beers. It was quaint and, maybe it was the whisky talking, it was starting to grow on him. Speaking of whiskey, he downed the last mouthful in one go, the alcohol burning his throat in the most pleasurable of ways.

“I’m going to get another drink, do you want one too?” He offered, getting up and fishing his wallet out of his jeans.

“Sure, if you’re buying,” you winked at him, pulling the straw from your drink into your mouth with your tongue and draining the rest of the liquid. Steve suddenly felt uncomfortably hot and excused himself, stumbling back to the bar.

 

With 2 new drinks in hand, he felt far more composed and ready to join you back at the table. As he approached he realised that you were not alone, in the few short minutes that he was gone a group of guys had taken up residence at your table. You were surrounded by 5 of them, laughing at something that they had said

“Here you go,” he sat the drink on the table in front of you, “who are your friends?” he asked taking a mouthful of his drink.

“Oh guys could you squish over?” you gestured for the men in Steve’s spot to move along. Steve squeezed onto the end of the bench, sandwiched against one of the strangers.

“Hey mate, I’m Joel,” the man next to him introduced himself and held out his hand.

“Steve,” he said, shaking the man’s hand with more force than probably necessary.

“I like your accent, what part of the US are you from?” Joel asks, it was an innocent question but for some reason, it had Steve seeing red.

“Brooklyn. Listen guys, we just came here for a quick dri-,” Steve stopped talking, if looks could kill he’d be dead, you were shooting him daggers from across the table.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s just a party pooper,” you ground out eliciting a laugh from the other men.

“Lighten up mate,” Joel nudged Steve’s shoulder, sloshing his beer over the side of his glass and all over Steve.

“Fucking hell,” Steve swore, he lost it and launched himself from the table and marched to the toilet, hands clenching to fists by his side. He paced in front of the mirror, mussing his hair with his hands. He knew he wasn’t your boyfriend. He understood that. He had no control over who you talked to but those guys really got under his skin. Especially Joel. He stopped pacing and braced his arms on the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

“Pull yourself together, Rogers,” he snarled. After splashing some water on his face he went back to the table, as he got closer he could hear your conversation with the boys.

“No! He’s like a brother to me, I- no. Just no,” you laughed, touching Joel on the arm. Steve sucked in a breath through his mouth and let it go slowly. Not yours, he reminded himself.

“Stevie you ok?” you asked, concern evident in your eyes.

“Yeah Y/N/N just worried about these jeans,” he lied, “they’re Bucky’s and I don’t want to make him mad.”

“That’s understandable,” you smiled, “so now that Steve’s back can we play pool?”

“Of course babe,” Joel winked, “so long as you’re on my team.” He reached across the table and took your hand in his.

“Well, that means you’re on my team then mate,” one of the other guys said, clapping Steve on the back.

 

They racked up the table and Joel insisted that he broke, sinking the number 10 ball in the same shot. Steve scoffed as Joel proceeded to miss the next ball completely. He leant back against the wall next to you and pulled you into his side.

“Gotta give them a chance to have a hit,” he said into your hair as he held you close. Steve was too distracted by Joel’s hands on you that he sunk one of your balls.

“Thanks, Steve,” you laughed and stalked around the table to find the best spot to take your shot from. Leaning over the far side of the table you lined up the balls, your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth as you concentrated on the shot. Steve had to avert his eyes, growing increasingly distracted by the way you were chewing on your lip. He heard the clink of 2 balls connecting and turned back around to see Joel stood behind you, arms trapping you in his frame as you both leaned over the table.

“See just like that,” he said, separating himself from you so you could change your position around the table. This continued for a couple more shots as you sunk more balls. Steve was getting impatient, both from not getting a turn and also seeing Joel’s body pressed up against yours was driving him mad. Finally, as if someone was listening to his prayers you didn’t sink a ball.

“Gotta give them a chance, right?” you giggled, looking up at Joel who wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“Too right,” he snickered looking at Steve. He whispered something into your ear and quickly left.

“Oh, no is he heading off? It’s getting late anyway maybe we should go too?” Steve looked at you but you just shook your head.

“He’s going to get another beer,” you explained moving next to him, “are you ok? Really?” you lowered your voice and looked at him expectantly.

“No, like I said before, I’m fine,” he said shortly, “I just-I don’t know if he’s right for you. Not really your type if you know what I mean?” You laughed sarcastically.

“As if you know my type, Steven,” you spat his name like it was venom, “I’m working through some stuff at the moment and you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, you know?” Steve shook his head and opened his mouth to ask what you meant but he stopped by the return of Joel.

“It’s your turn,” you smiled up at Joel who slapped your ass as he made his way to the table.

“This one’s for you,” he blew a kiss to you before he sunk the last of your coloured balls. Steve let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. Joel missed sinking the black ball but he was still rewarded with a kiss on the cheek from you. Steve was fuming, with none of his team’s balls in easy reach, he lined up the white ball with the side of the table and channelled all of his rage into his shot, sending the ball ricocheting off the sides and completely missing all the balls on the table. Luckily for you, the ball came to rest in the ideal position to sink the black ball.

“Awh, thanks Stevie,” you mocked patting him on the shoulder. Lining up the 2 balls you took the easy shot to sink the black one and ended the game. Joel swept you up in his arms and spun you around.

“Dream team!” He cheered putting you back on your feet, “what do you say to another game?” Steve gave a little shake of his head as you looked to him hopefully.

“Not tonight, sorry Joel,” you apologised.

“Ok, well what about we head over to the Northern for a couple more drinks?” He suggested. Steve could think of nothing he wanted more than to go home but he didn’t want to disappoint you. He opened his mouth to accept Joel’s invitation but you beat him to it.

“I’m so sorry but we only got in this morning and I’m completely spent,” you explained, “but we’ll see each other around, Byron’s a small place.” You got out your phone “How about you give me your number?” You exchanged numbers with Joel and he kissed you on the cheek. Steve didn’t hang around, taking off down the street leaving you to chase after him.

“Mind telling me what the fuck is going on?” you panted when you finally caught up with him.

“Nothin’, just tired,” he mumbled kicking a rock along the floor as he walked.

“Fine, don’t tell me just don’t be such a dick about it.”

*****

The rest of the walk was in total silence, neither of you daring to speak. Wordlessly, Steve unlocked the door and let you in, shutting the door once he was inside. You grabbed you pyjamas and retreated into the bathroom. Steve sat on the edge of the bed and hung his head in his hands. He’d been a real jerk tonight, and he knew that, but he didn’t know what else to do. He was in a hell of a lot deeper than he realised. He changed into his pyjamas, shut the curtains, turned off the light and switched on the bedside lamp before slipping into his side of the bed. With his hands behind his head he stared at the ceiling he found himself thinking about something you said earlier when you emerged from the bathroom looking just as stunning as when you were all dolled up. You got into bed next to him and rolled on your side to look at him.

“Goodnight Steve,” you whispered.

“Good night Y/N,” he replied, rolling over to turn off the lamp before falling into a fitful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on Tumblr @iambuckyrogers


End file.
